Living in Sarika Cave, Ãcariya Mun
was occasionally visited by sãvaka Arahants, who
appeared to him by means of samãdhi nimitta. Each sãvaka Arahant
delivered for his benefit a discourse on Dhamma,
elucidating the traditional practices of the Noble
Ones. Here is the substance of what was expressed:

Walking meditation must be practiced
in a calm, self-composed manner. Use mindfulness to
focus your attention directly on the task you have
set for yourself. If you’re investigating the nature
of the khandhas or the conditions of the body, or
simply concentrating on a specific Dhamma theme,
then make sure mindfulness is firmly fixed on that
object. Don’t allow your attention to drift
elsewhere. Such negligence is characteristic of one
having no solid spiritual basis to anchor him, and
thus lacking a reliable inner refuge. Mindful
awareness should attend each and every movement in
all your daily activities. Don’t perform these
actions as though you are so sound asleep that you
have no mindful awareness of how your body tosses
about, or how prolifically your sleeping mind
dreams. Going on your morning almsround, eating your
food, and relieving yourself: in all such basic
duties you should adhere strictly to the traditional
practices of the Lord Buddha’s Noble disciples.
Never behave as though you lack proper training in
the Teaching and the Discipline. Always conduct
yourself in the manner of a true samaõa with the
calm, peaceful demeanor expected of one who ordains
as a disciple of the Lord Buddha. This means
maintaining mindfulness and wisdom in every posture
as a way of eliminating the poisons buried deep
within your heart. Thoroughly investigate all the
food you eat. Don’t allow those foods that taste
good to add poison to your mind. Even though the
body may be strengthened by food that’s eaten
without proper investigation, the mind will be
weakened by its damaging effects. By nourishing your
body with food that is eaten unmindfully, you will,
in effect, be destroying yourself with nourishment
that depletes your mental vitality.

A samaõa must never endanger his own
well-being or the well-being of others by shamefully
accumulating kilesas; for, not only do they harm
him, but they can easily mushroom and spread harm to
others as well. In the view of the Buddha’s Noble
disciples, all mental defilements are to be greatly
feared. Utmost care should be taken to ensure that
the mind does not neglect to check any outflow of
the kilesas, for each one acts like a sheet of fire
destroying everything in its path. The Noble Dhamma,
practiced by all of the Lord Buddha’s Noble
disciples, emphasizes scrupulous self-discipline at
all times and under all conditions – whether
walking, standing, sitting, lying down, eating or
relieving oneself; and in all of one’s conversations
and social interactions. Inattentive, undisciplined
behavior is a habit of the kilesas, leading to
unwholesome thoughts, and thus, perpetuating the
cycle of birth and death. Those wishing to escape
from the cycle of rebirth should avoid such
deplorable habits. They merely lead deeper into the
abyss, eventually causing one to become that most
undesirable of persons – a wretched samaõa. No one
wishes to partake of wretched food; no one wishes to
reside in a wretched house; and no one wishes to
dress in wretched clothes, or even look at them.
Generally, people detest and shun wretched
things – how much more so a wretched person with a
wretched mind. But the most abhorrent thing in the
world is a wretched samaõa who is ordained as a
Buddhist monk. His wretchedness pierces the hearts
of good and bad people alike. It pierces the hearts
of all devas and brahmas without exception. For this
reason, one should strive to be a true samaõa exercising
extreme care to remain mindful and self-disciplined
at all times.

Of all the many things that people
value and care for in the world, a person’s mind is
the most precious. In fact, the mind is the foremost
treasure in the whole world, so be sure to look
after it well. To realize the mind’s true nature is
to realize Dhamma. Understanding the mind is the
same as understanding Dhamma. Once the mind is
known, then Dhamma in its entirety is known.
Arriving at the truth about one’s mind is the
attainment of Nibbãna. Clearly, the mind is a
priceless possession that should never be
overlooked. Those who neglect to nurture the special
status that the mind has within their bodies will
always be born flawed, no matter how many hundreds
or thousands of times they are reborn. Once we
realize the precious nature of our own minds, we
should not be remiss, knowing full well that we are
certain to regret it later. Such remorse being
avoidable, we should never allow it to occur.

Human beings are the most intelligent
form of life on earth. As such, they should not
wallow in ignorance. Otherwise, they will live an
insufferably wretched existence, never finding any
measure of happiness. The manner in which a true samaõa conducts
all his affairs, both temporal and spiritual, sets a
trustworthy example to be followed by the rest of
the world. He engages in work that is pure and
blameless; his actions are both righteous and
dispassionate. So, endeavor to cultivate within
yourself the exemplary work of a samaõa, making it
flourish steadily, so that wherever you go, your
practice will always prosper accordingly. A samaõa who
cherishes moral virtue, cherishes concentration,
cherishes mindfulness, cherishes wisdom and
cherishes diligent effort, is sure to achieve that
exalted status of a full-fledged samaõa now, and to
maintain it in the future.

The teaching that I give you is the
dispensation of a man of diligence and perseverance,
a spiritual warrior who emerged victorious, a
preeminent individual who completely transcended dukkha, freeing
himself of all fetters. He attained absolute
freedom, becoming the Lord Buddha, the supreme guide
and teacher of the three worlds of existence. If you
can understand the special value this teaching holds
for you, before long you too will have rid yourself
of kilesas. I entrust this Dhamma teaching to you in
the hope that you will give it the most careful
consideration. In that way, you will experience
incredible wonders arising within your mind, which
by its very nature is a superb and wonderful thing.

A sãvaka Arahant having delivered
such a discourse and departed, Ãcariya Mun humbly
received that Dhamma teaching. He carefully
contemplated every aspect of it, isolating each
individual point, and then thoroughly analyzed them
all, one by one. As more and more sãvaka Arahants
came to teach him in this way, he gained many new
insights into the practice just by listening to
their expositions. Hearing their wonderful
discourses increased his enthusiasm for meditation,
thus greatly enhancing his understanding of Dhamma.

Ãcariya Mun
said that listening to a discourse delivered by one
of the Buddha’s Arahant disciples made him feel as
if he was in the presence of the Lord Buddha
himself, though he had no prior recollection of
meeting the Buddha. Listening intently, his heart
completely full, he became so absorbed in Dhamma
that the entire physical world, including his own
body, ceased to exist for him then. The citta alone
existed, its awareness shining brightly with the
radiance of Dhamma. It was only later, when he
withdrew from that state, that he realized the
oppressive burden he still carried with him: for he
became conscious again of his physical body – the
focal point where the other four khandhas come
together, each one a heavy mass of suffering on its
own.

During his lengthy sojourn at Sarika
Cave, Ãcariya Mun entertained many sãvaka Arahants
and heeded their words of advice, making this cave
unique among all the places where he had ever
stayed. While living there, the Dhamma of
unimpeachable certainty arose in his heart; that is,
he attained the fruition of Anãgãmï. According to
Buddhist scripture, the Anãgãmï has abandoned the
five lower fetters that bind living beings to the
round of repeated existence: sakkãyadiååhi,
vicikicchã, sïlabbataparãmãsa, kãmarãga, and paåigha. Someone
reaching this level of attainment is assured of
never being reborn in the human realm, or in any
other realm of existence where bodies are composed
of the four gross physical elements: earth, water,
fire, and air. Should that individual fail to ascend
to the level of Arahant before dying, at the moment
of death he will be reborn into one of the five Pure
Abodes of the brahma world. An Anãgãmï is reborn in
the abode of aviha, atappa, sudassa, sudassï or akaniååha, depending
on the individual’s level of advancement along the
Arahant path

Ãcariya Mun
revealed that he attained the stage of Anãgãmï in
Sarika Cave exclusively to his close disciples; but,
I have decided to declare it publicly here for the
reader’s consideration. Should this disclosure be
considered in any way inappropriate, I deserve the
blame for not being more circumspect.

ONE NIGHT, HAVING CONTINUED to
practice peacefully for many months, Ãcariya Mun
experienced an unusually strong feeling of
compassion for his fellow monks. By that time,
amazing insights surfaced nightly in his meditation
practice. He became keenly aware of many strange,
wonderful things – things he had never dreamed of
seeing in his life. On the night that he thought
about his fellow monks, his meditation had an
exceptionally unusual quality to it. His citta had
attained an especially ethereal refinement in samãdhi, resulting
in many extraordinary insights. Fully realizing the
harmful effects that his own past ignorance had
caused him, he was moved to tears. At the same time,
he understood the value of the effort he had
struggled so diligently to maintain until he could
reap the amazing fruits of that diligence. A deep
appreciation for the Lord Buddha’s supreme
importance arose in his heart; for, it was he who
compassionately proclaimed the Dhamma so that others
could follow in his footsteps, thus allowing them to
understand the complex nature of their own kamma, and
that of all other living beings as well. Thus the
vital significance of the Dhamma verse: All beings
are born of their kamma and kamma is their one true
possession, which succinctly sums up practically all
the Buddha’s teachings.

Those insights notwithstanding, Ãcariya
Mun continued to remind himself that despite their
truly amazing character he had yet to reach the end
of the path and the cessation of dukkha. To
accomplish that he would need to pour all his energy
into the practice – with unstinting resolve. In the
meantime, he was pleased to see that the chronic
stomach ailment which he had suffered so long was
now completely cured. More than that, his mind was
now firmly anchored to a solid spiritual basis.
Although he had yet to totally eradicate his kilesas, he
was sure of being on the right path. His meditation
practice, now progressing smoothly, had none of the
fluctuations he had experienced earlier. Unlike in
the past, when he was groping in the dark, feeling
his way along, he now felt certain of the path
leading to the highest Dhamma. He was absolutely
convinced that one day he would transcend dukkha.

His mindfulness and wisdom had
reached a stage where they worked ceaselessly in
perfect concert. He never needed to urge them into
action. Day and night, knowledge and understanding
arose continuously– both internal spiritual insights
and awareness of countless external phenomena. The
more his mind delighted in such amazing Dhamma, the
more compassion he felt for his fellow monks: he was
eager to share with them these wondrous insights. In
the end, this profound feeling of compassion
precipitated his departure from that auspicious
cave. With some reluctance, he eventually left to
search out the dhutanga monks he had known
previously, when he was living in the Northeast.

Several days prior to his departure
from Sarika Cave, a group of terrestrial devas, led
by the mysterious being he first encountered there,
came to hear a discourse on Dhamma. After finishing
his discourse, Ãcariya Mun informed them of his
decision, saying he would soon take leave of them.
Unwilling to see him depart, the large company of devas
who were gathered there beseeched him to stay on for
the sake of their long-term happiness and
prosperity. Ãcariya Mun explained that, just as he
had come to that cave for a reason, so too he had a
reason for moving on – he didn’t come and go
slavishly, following his desires. Asking for their
understanding, he cautioned them against feeling
disappointed. He promised that, if the opportunity
presented itself in the future, he would return.
The devas expressed their sincere regrets, showing
the genuine affection and respect for him they’d
always felt.

At about ten p.m. on the night before
his departure, Ãcariya Mun thought of at monastery,
wondering what was on his mind. So he focused his citta and
sent the flow of his consciousness out to observe
him. He found that Chao Khun Upãli was at that
moment contemplating avijjã in relation to paåiccasamuppãda.
Ãcariya Mun took note of the time and the date. When
eventually he arrived in Bangkok, he asked Chao Khun
Upãli about what he’d observed. With a hearty laugh
Chao Khun Upãli immediately acknowledged it to be
true, saying this in praise of Ãcariya Mun:

“You are truly masterful. I myself am
a respected teacher, yet I’m inept compared to
you – and I feel embarrassed. You truly are a
master. This is exactly how a genuine disciple of
the Lord Buddha follows in the footsteps of the
Supreme Teacher. We can’t all be incompetent in the
practice of the Lord Buddha’s teaching – somebody
has to maintain this exalted Dhamma in the spirit
that it was originally taught. By not allowing the
modern age we live in to foster a lazy, defeatist
attitude toward the highest attainments, you have
demonstrated the timeless quality of the Buddha’s
teaching. Otherwise, the true Dhamma will no longer
arise in the world, despite the fact that the Buddha
proclaimed it for the benefit of all mankind. The
special knowledge you have just displayed to me is
most admirable. This is the way the Lord’s teaching
should be developed and put into practice.”

Ãcariya Mun
stated that Chao Khun Upãli had the utmost
admiration and respect for him. There were certain
occasions when he sent for Ãcariya Mun to help him
solve certain problems he was unable to resolve to
his own satisfaction. Eventually when the time was
right, Ãcariya Mun left Bangkok and returned
directly to the Northeast.

IN THE YEARS PRIOR to his sojourn at
Sarika Cave, Ãcariya Mun traveled into the
neighboring country of Burma, later returning by way
of the northern Thai province of Chiang Mai.
Continuing on into Laos, he practiced the ascetic
way of life for some time in the area around Luang
Prabang, eventually returning to Thailand to spend
the rains retreat near the village of Ban Khok in
Loei province, quite close to Pha Pu Cave. The
following rains retreat was spent at Pha Bing Cave,
also in Loei province. Back then, these places were
all wilderness areas, teeming with wild animals
where village communities were located far and few
between: one could walk all day without coming
across a single settlement. A person losing his way
in that vast wilderness could find himself in the
precarious situation of having to sleep overnight in
an inhospitable environment at the mercy of tigers
and other wild beasts.

On one occasion Ãcariya Mun crossed
the Mekong River and settled in a large tract of
mountainous forest on the Laotian side. While he
camped there, a huge Bengal tiger often wandered
into his living area. Always coming at night, it
stood some distance away watching him pace back and
forth in meditation. It never displayed threatening
behavior, but it did roar occasionally as it
wandered freely around the area. Being well
accustomed to living in close proximity to wild
animals, Ãcariya Mun paid little attention to the
tiger.

During that excursion he was
accompanied by another monk, Ãcariya Sitha, who had
been ordained slightly longer than he had. A
contemporary of Ãcariya Mun, Ãcariya Sitha excelled
in the practice of meditation. He liked the type of
seclusion that the wilderness offered, preferring to
live in the mountains stretching along the Laotian
side of the Mekong River. Only occasionally did he
cross the river into Thailand, and then never for
very long.

On that occasion, Ãcariya Mun and Ãcariya
Sitha were camped some distance apart, each
depending on a separate village for his daily alms
food. One night while walking in meditation, Ãcariya
Sitha was visited by a huge Bengal tiger. The tiger
crept in and quietly crouched forward to about six
feet from his meditation track, right in between the
lighted candles at each end of the track that
allowed him to see as he paced back and forth in the
dark. Facing the meditation track while remaining
motionless, it sat there calmly like a house pet
watching Ãcariya Sitha intently as he paced back and
forth. Reaching that place on the track opposite
which the tiger was crouched, Ãcariya Sitha sensed
something out of place. At once he became
suspicious, for normally nothing was at the side of
his track. Glancing over he saw the huge Bengal
tiger crouched there, staring back at him – since
when he couldn’t tell. Still, he felt no fear. He
merely watched the tiger as it sat motionless,
looking back at him like an enormous stuffed animal.

After a moment he continued pacing
back and forth, passing each time in front of the
tiger – but thoughts of fear never crossed his mind.
He noticed, though, that it remained crouched there
for an unusually long time. Feeling sorry for it, he
directed this train of thought at the tiger: Why not
go off and find something to eat? Why just sit there
watching me? No sooner had this thought arisen, than
the tiger let out a deafening roar that resounded
through the whole forest. The sound of its roar left
Ãcariya Sitha in no doubt that it intended to stay,
so he quickly changed tack, thinking: I thought that
only because I felt sorry for you – I was afraid you
might get hungry sitting there so long. After all,
you have a mouth and a stomach to fill, just like
all other creatures. But if you don’t feel hungry
and want to sit there watching over me, that’s fine,
I don’t mind.

The tiger showed no reaction to Ãcariya
Sitha’s change of heart – it just crouched by the
path and continued to watch him. He then resumed his
meditation, taking no further interest in it. Some
time later he left the meditation track and walked
to a small bamboo platform situated close by to take
a rest. He chanted suttas there for awhile then sat
peacefully in meditation until time to go to sleep,
which he did lying on the bamboo platform. During
that entire time the tiger remained crouched in its
original position, not far away. But when he awoke
at three a.m. to resume his walking meditation, he
saw no sign of the tiger anywhere– he had no idea
where it had gone. As it happened, he saw it only
that once; from then on until he left that place, it
never appeared again.

This incident intrigued Ãcariya Sitha,
so when he met with Ãcariya Mun he described to him
how the tiger had crouched there watching him. He
told Ãcariya Mun the tiger had roared at the precise
moment the thought arose wishing it to go away. He
recounted how, although he wasn’t conscious of any
fear, his hair stood on end and his scalp went numb,
as if he were wearing a cap. But soon he again felt
quite normal, resuming his walking meditation as
though nothing had happened.

Actually, there probably was a subtle
measure of fear buried deep inside that he was
incapable of perceiving at the time. Although the
tiger never returned to his campsite, he often heard
the sound of its roars echoing through the nearby
forest. Still, Ãcariya Sitha’s mind remained
resolute and he continued to practice contentedly,
as he always had.